Make my bed and lie in it, bone-pile,
you get to be the blanket lumps.
Half a year or so ago your weight
would make this mattress creak, creak.
Stay a bit and let me hear your teeth
tap dance, bone-pile. Knead an everlasting
meal from these pale sheets of flesh.
My bathroom light stays on when you come
back to me in dreams that hold your joints
together for the first time since they broke
and I see you walk upright, bone-pile.
Sleep now, your bones surround me. Elbows
and kneecaps and hips that cut till I cry out
you pull me closer into your rib cage.